


Tears

by sacchan



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 05:10:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5815483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sacchan/pseuds/sacchan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a story about what happens after the „happily ever after”. Because keeping a relationship going for long years is not at all easy. Especially when both parties change. Fortunately? Can’t really say that, but there are always happenings that make you realize when you are heading to the wrong direction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tears

**Author's Note:**

> I started this story more than four years ago x””D Now the big happening happening in it is long in the past, but you probably remember it. Because it did happen. And I hope it won’t again.

Sho never cried. He so rarely did it, that people, even his closest ones thought he has never cried. Ones in five years his work happened to be so overwhelming – it’s not so surprising when you do reports with people who lived through wars, for example – that he couldn’t keep the tears inside anymore. But because of happiness or anxiety or _rage_ he never did. Now he felt he could do it as he stood there in the snow white room, next to the snow white bed and sheets that covered the man, who was just as white as everything else. 

He felt his throat close up as he squeezed the bedrail with the tears shining in his eyes in the dim light. He wanted to strangle his bandmate; only his biggest fear at the moment was exactly the possibility of his loss. That Aiba would die. 

Two hours ago he was still on the recording of ZERO. They were chatting with his colleagues in the usual calm, composed manner, and he almost agreed to go to drink with them. However the dance practice in the morning seemed way too close at 2am, so he didn’t. 

He realized the lack of his phone’s presence only in the car, and had to search for long seconds in his bag to find it. Dead, of course. Even this felt like a usual pattern. _Iphones_ , he muttered to himself, then put it on the charger that he could plug into his car’s USB port. The waiting for it to turn on seemed long as always, just like the resigned sigh that escaped his mouth when he took a look at all the red circles with way too big numbers in them. 

Missed calls, e-mails, and one LINE message. He frowned. The first two wasn’t surprising, but the third was just a little bit unusual for a Monday night. Other than that four, only a handful of people could contact him on LINE – family and real friends –, and even they knew not to do it when he's at work unless it’s very important. So it must have been important enough to look at it even at 2am.

It was a really usual day, filled with _like always_ -es. Until he opened the message from Jun. 

“Masaki-kun is at the hospital. His lungs.” He didn’t need to read that last word, after the hospital, his brain already shouted: HIS LUNGS. 

He squeezed the phone so hard that his hand started to shake. Fear came first mixed with suffocating worry. But then very fast…

He could have blown up from rage. How many times have they told him to eat properly? How many times have they repeated, ‘ _please, be just a little bit calmer’_? But he never listened, even that day earlier, he gave so much to the Shiyagare recording that he made them feel like, his life depended on it.

His life. Which he already put into danger once, because of his careless way of living. What if now… NO! If the situation was really bad, it wouldn’t have been Jun who contacted him. And especially not on LINE. Not mention that, ZERO would have reported it already. 

He started the engine, and gave the address of their usual hospital to the GPS. It took one hour to get there, but he couldn’t remember much of it. He was way too occupied with trying to expel the worse and worse thoughts from his head. He _knew_ the situation wasn’t the worst, but he just couldn’t not worry. 

Which made him angry. He felt that rage getting stronger and stronger. He doubted he would be able to resist the urge to scold the man. _How could he be so stupid?!_

The nurses didn’t even try to stop him as he arrived, even though it was the dead of the night. One of them jumped out from behind the nurse station and after greeting him with a deep bow, showed the way. 

Sho felt like twenty again. 

It was a different hospital, it was during the night not the morning, his body felt different in the suit – already the suit was something unfitting to the image of his 20 year old self –, he’s gained at least 10kgs in the past nine years after all. He was a _different man_ than he was back then, when he had to come to a hospital with the worry of losing the boy he loved. Even his love was different by now. They were going out for nine years after all, you can’t just go and maintain a teenage love for that long. They didn’t live in a fairy tale. 

And yet, he was twenty again, boiling with fear, worry, love and anger. Even though he listened to the nurse’s quiet explanation of Masaki’s state, which as expected wasn’t _that_ bad. Even though it has been half an hour since he was standing there in the poorly lightened hospital room. 

He hated their life that required them to overwork themselves, he hated the earth for giving them that catastrophe, which leaded to even more work for all of them. He hated everyone in that half an hour. He hated everyone and loved Masaki. His heart was aching with real pain. He wanted to stroke his face, to feel that it’s warm. He wanted to kiss him so he could feel his breathe. He wanted to lay down next to him and hug him so he could not go anywhere, where he can’t follow. 

Though, he stood there doing nothing of the sort, because he also wanted to strangle him just yet. 

“Sho-chan…?” 

The hoarse voice broke the tranquility of the room – it was quiet altogether with the noises of the machines in it, so _deadly_ quiet – like a glass can broke when it hits the ground. Instantly and drastically. Hearing his name broke Sho’s last fence that kept his feelings inside, too, as if it was glass. 

Instantly and drastically. 

“How can you be so irresponsible?” he burst out. Not really on a loud voice, but everything felt loud in the sleeping hospital. “Why can’t you ever listen to us? How many times have I told you not to go overboard? Just… how many times, Masaki?”

His voice went out for a second after the just, and the younger man’s name was hardly heard as if the power ran out of Sho’s words. It felt like the tears took the power away from him. The tears that now were running down his face, to his neck, just to get lost in the hardened material of his white shirt’s collar. 

“Sho-chan,” Masaki tried again after clearing his throat unsuccessfully. Then he realized his voice sounded strange, because of the oxygen mask. He knew he can’t take that off. He also knew, Sho would most likely break his hand before he could. “I’m sorry, Sho-chan.”

The younger didn’t touch him. He didn’t lift his hands to take Sho’s off the bedrail. He didn’t even try to sit up, just to cause more trouble than good result. He did all that nine years ago, though, when he was an even more hyper, over-energized kid. Sho wasn’t the only one, who changed. 

Although, Sho wasn’t sure lately whether it was a good or bad thing for them. Masaki was still clumsy, silly at times, and adorable whatever he was doing. But he was also a lot more composed, he was finally losing the last bits of his boy-ness. He was becoming a man. 

Or he already was, looking at him now. He just laid there in silence, looking at Sho with sadness and regret in his eyes, waiting for him to compose himself. Alone. Boy-Masaki – _his Masaki_ – would have been flustered, trying to sit up, trying to hug him to comfort him. Even though Sho hardly needed comfort like that. He loved Masaki’s touches on his body whenever they were close. But when he had an emotional roller coaster ride, Sho wanted to deal with his problems alone. It was faster and easier that way. And Masaki finally seemed to understand that.

It felt so… cold. Sho felt unnecessarily lonesome with his tears and harsh feelings, when Masaki seemed so calm. And it made him even angrier. That happened a lot when he felt humiliated – by his own standards, which were very, very strict. Masaki had no intention like that.

“When did this happen?” 

Masaki stayed quiet for a while, but then answered, because he knew he can’t escape this conversation. “Right after the Shiyagare shooting.”

Sho tensed up. “Jun only wrote me after midnight.” His voice was a threatening growl. 

“I asked them not to contact you, till Zero was on.” Masaki’s was only mumble through the oxygen mask. 

It wasn’t exactly easy to see in the subdued light, but Sho’s eyes were intensely burning with anger. The wrinkles around them seemed even deeper, making his face darker. Masaki still didn’t feel scared of him. He was over that – well, he only realized this now, though. He was always so scared of how Sho saw him, what he thought of him, that he ended up being utterly hopeless around him. Getting Sho’s appreciation or acknowledgement wasn’t an aim anymore. 

Where are they heading with all these changes? Their relationship was unshakeable for nine years, even though it was based on nothing else, but their love for each other. They didn’t spend much time together, it was impossible after all, just like living in the same place. There were always more things that they could not do than could. And that made it stable. 

Or just… cold? A cold routine? Was that all they had? They just never noticed it in the repeating days of _we-can’t_ -s? 

Masaki felt so different than what he was nine years ago, when his lungs collapsed for the first time. He felt shameful and apologetic, of course, but he wasn’t scared about the future. The situation wasn’t half as bad as that time, and he went on for nine years without much problems, didn’t he? He just had to slow down again. And hang on.

“Why would you do that?”

Masaki focused again on the conversation as Sho’s question broke the tranquility again. “You had to work.”

It was as simple as that. He couldn’t just go and disturb Sho’s Monday night. Not even he had the privilege to do that. 

“I came in on my own legs, Sho-chan. It wasn’t all that serious.”

Sho ran his eyes over the other’s body in the bed, looking like bones and nothing else, being white as the sheets. This doesn’t seem like something that’s not serious. Not serious enough for Masaki to inform him before anyone else. 

The older one ignored the tiny voice in his head that told him how unfair he played. _When you are glad that your work wasn’t disturbed_ … He pointed his anger at Masaki instead. “It seems very serious to me. It seems like you are playing with your life like it means nothing. _Again_.” 

Masaki only answered with shaking his head a little. His throat hurt, if he wanted to be honest. It didn’t feel good to talk, and he doubted it has any merit at all. It wasn’t anything like the last time. They both knew that. And Sho somehow… never listened to him anyway. He was such a devoted listener when it came to others. He just had a problem hearing what Masaki had to say. 

It was painful for a long time. Having your opinion or ways suppressed most of the time wasn’t easy to take. Masaki learned to do it, though. He did, because together with Sho’s bad points, he loved him. He learned to be satisfied with the tiniest things this man could give him. He learned to accept that he won’t be the first for Sho. The first was his work, or his family. Getting other people’s recognition. 

“I’m talking to you.” 

Aiba winced at the sudden louder voice. It was so hard to concentrate. He probably got some medicine that made him numb. “I’m sorry.”

“You said that already. I asked, what you are planning to do in the future about this.”

“About what?” Ah, he was so sleepy. 

“About not throwing your life out the window.”

“Do we really need to talk about that now?” He hated how lethargic his voice sounded. 

Sho did the same. “It’s kind of important to me, you see. Obviously more important to me than to you, though. Which is ridiculous.”

None of them were even close to laughing. 

“I don’t plan on dying.” 

“It doesn’t seem like that.” _How to stop? How to stop being this angry? Saying things that I don’t mean? How to stop?_ Sho had no idea at that moment. “Do I need to spy on you all the time? Do I need to check every time if you eat properly? Do I need to tie you up to prevent you from over exhausting yourself? What should I do, Masaki, to prevent you from dying on me? 

Aiba wouldn’t have been able to remember the first part of what Sho was growling about, even if somebody had put a gun to his head. But he heard that last question. He heard it clear, because it was like a desperate scream together with its small tone. 

“I am not dying on you.” 

He could see on Sho’s face that he wasn’t listening to him again. He only heard the voices in his head. Masaki sighed, and was fighting with the urge to take that stupid mask off. He started to get worked up, too, even though the doctors told him that he must stick to being calm for at least a week. 

“Sho-chan, please, stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Whatever is going on in your head. Nothing like that is happening.” 

The older one frowned for a second, then with the wave of the hot feelings inside him, he burst out the truth. “I was thinking of marrying you.”

Masaki definitely wasn’t the same like nine years ago. At that time, when he was scared for his life, so ended up stuttering to Sho about his feelings, then got the shocking answer that his love wasn’t unrequired, the wave of happiness almost drowned him instantly. Now that he heard those words, he felt only a little pang in his chest. After it was one of the…

“We can’t, and you know that.”

Sho felt like he was punched in the stomach. There was just enough pause between his hotheaded statement, and Masaki’s answer that he started to feel embarrassed about it.

“You don’t want to?” He couldn’t see Aiba’s face properly, because of the mask, so the pucker of his mouth was invisible, but Sho saw his eyes. They were sad. _I am so selfish and self-centered._

“You are so unfair, Sho-chan.” He couldn’t even look at his lover anymore. He wanted to tell him that he is playing one-sided _again_. That he is selfish, and if they are in this together, Masaki wants a word in their decisions, too. _You are so selfish and self-centered._ “And you don’t need to marry me, just for keeping an eye on me.”

He said nothing of the things he wanted to. He wasn’t brave enough for that. And even if he changed and cared less about Sho’s opinion concerning him, he feared losing the older one just as much as he did nine years ago. That much doesn’t seem to change. He loved Sho. How utterly… stupid. _How me_ …

“That’s what I intend to do, though. You clearly can’t care for yourself enough.” 

“Oh, let me be, I am not your dog.” Now he was angry, too. Now he felt tears in his eyes, too. That was also something unchangeable about him. Crying. 

“I wanna move in together.” 

Masaki took a shaking breathe. “How many times I’ve asked you for that?”

Sho frowned at the sudden raise in Aiba’s tone. 

“Why is it alright now, that you want to do it?”

The wrinkles got deeper. “You haven’t asked in a long time, Masaki.”

“Because the answer was always _we can’t_.” _I learned from your lectures_. He got just enough long, lecturelike explanations about the reasons. However that also wasn’t something to say out loud. Aiba Masaki wasn’t mean enough for that. 

However Sakurai Sho was just intelligent enough to understand the unvoiced words, too. _I did this_. Sho’s cowardice infected his vigorous and brave boy, and made him feeble more than any illness could have. Masaki accepted his ways and stopped trying to change their relationship. _Since when?_ Sho couldn’t have told. 

A single tear ran done his face leaving an invisible trace where it washed off the base of his makeup that matched his skin color perfectly. Many more followed that first in absolute silence. That was the reason why the younger took way too long to notice what is happening.

“Don’t cry, please.”

Warm hand on a lot colder one. Masaki’s hand on his. _Finally_. Sho let go of the bedrail and interlocked their fingers. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

 _For almost – oh, how much I hope, it’s just almost – breaking you._

“Everything.” There were words that couldn’t be said. There were words that had to be expressed by actions. Sho was a master of words instead of actions, which was Masaki’s special field, but now he knew what he has to do.

“You really shouldn’t…” whispered Masaki as the mask was lifted up from his face.

“You said you are not dying on me, then this much is forgivable.” 

_If I did it, you would have been mad at me, though_. The fleeting thought disappeared from his mind as soon as he felt Sho’s soft lips on his own dried ones. The older one’s tongue ran over them just once to put an end to that in the next second. 

“Sho-chan…” Masaki breathed on Sho’s lips as the older one pressed his forehead to his. 

“You are warm…” Sho felt the tears gathering in his eyes again. “You are warm…” he repeated unconsciously. 

“I am not dead,” answered the younger one with a short chuckle. “And not dying on you either. Please, believe me.”

Their eyes locked in the dim lights created by the hospital equipment. The only message they tried to convey was easily readable anyway, _I am sorry_. 

“Will you move in with me?” Sho asked on a hesitating, small voice after a little while. 

“What happened with marriage?” Masaki questioned him teasingly. 

“I kind of realized, this country is still not America.”

That was a _we can’t_ , they really couldn’t help.

“There are gay couples getting married in Disneyland, though. I would be alright with a Disneyland wedding.” The teasing tone didn’t seem to disappear.

Sho wanted to say _we can’t_ , it was on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it. Then rephrased it a little. “I’m sure, if you ask Jun, he can make us a more dream-like wedding than it would be in Disneyland.” There was a tiny smile in the edges of his mouth, too.

“Ugh, don’t you think, he would make us perform Love so Sweet?!!” 

“It could be One Love.”

They laughed for a while as imagining themselves singing the songs that sometimes haunted them even in their sleeps on their own wedding. Both of them admitted in the end, _it wouldn’t be all that bad_.

Sho kissed the smile off Masaki’s lips, but put the oxygen mask back on his face before he would ran out of breathe. They will have other times when they can go that far. They have time to make it good again. _He is not dying on me_. By the time he sat down on the chair by the bed, his heart was heavy again. The bedrail got lowered, so he could take the younger’s bony hand in his easily after leaning on the mattress. He traced the bones and veins for a while in silence even though he felt Aiba’s gaze on himself. Even though he had so much to say. 

So many questions. So much uncertainty which he hated endlessly. But the words were so heavy that they kept sinking back down into his stomach, so his mouth remained closed. 

“Ne, Sho-chan.” Aiba waited till he lifted his head. “Can we paint the living room Arashi colored?” 

The older frowned then snorted. “You can’t be serious.” 

And with that the complicated atmosphere that seized the room started to slip away. It didn’t change like summer storms come – fast and drastically –, because Masaki wasn’t any like Sho. He changed the mood like sunshine breaking through dark clouds, slowly but unstoppable. Warm and shiny.

 _When did I become dark clouds, covering you, Masaki?_ Sho squeezed the other’s hand unconsciously as the thought came to the surface in his head while they discussed how their living room would look like. _And why do I always need you to_ almost _break down before I realize my mistakes?_

Sho felt like twenty again. However this time the cause was the wavering desires that started to move again in his chest. Nine years ago, when Masaki confessed to him, Sho finally let his longing lose. But even though his eagerness was free in the past years, it got suppressed by roles. It wasn’t powerful enough when had to face his sense of duty. Sho always thought, giving up himself, his needs, for his job is something respectable. It became his honor at some point. 

But that point was the same when he started to lose Masaki, too. And while Sho accepted to give up himself for this crazy life, he wasn’t ready to do the same with the boy who gave the real reason for him to live on in it. The agency could ask for anything from him, but not his boy. _His man._

His eyelids felt heavy by this time even though he still tried to keep up with the talking, which Aiba seemingly enjoyed more than him. “I need to start referring to you as my man…” he mumbled completely unaware, as his head reached the mattress. 

“What is that even?” Masaki muttered back with a huge grin. “We are almost thirty, Sho-chan, it’s about time.”

He wanted to stroke his hair. Or his face. He wanted to touch Sho so bad. But he didn’t move at all, not to wake the man up. However he also didn’t let go of his hand that he kept squeezing for a long time, even after the sun started to raise outside. He came back from a deep and exhausted slumber together with it.

He wasn’t naïve like back then. Now he knew that just because they loved each other, life won’t become miraculously easy. By now he also learned that the person he loved wasn’t even close to the image that lived in his head as a teen. Sho was cold, a lot colder than him, sometimes mean even. Sometimes he forgot all about Masaki, too. And always, always put everything before him.

But Masaki also wasn’t weak like he was nine years ago. From now on, he swore to himself in the lightened up hospital room, he won’t back down. He will want, he will let his desires to be more powerful than Sho’s sense of duty. He will let his love to be selfish. Because…

“I don’t want to ever lose you, Sho-chan,” his mouth formed the words without saying them out loud. 

A single teardrop ran down his face that started to look less white again by the time a warm, vivid sunbeam pierced through the window, making everything clear.


End file.
